The Day Harry Potter Disappeared
by saaio
Summary: Just when Harry thinks everything is going great, Voldemort gone, Hermione and Ron together, on his way to be an Auror etc. Dung ruins his life in 1 night. Delves into the questions we all ask ourselves, the inner struggles of man. u no, WHO?HOW?WHY?WHA?
1. The Last Last Day

Ch. 1 PG 6

A/N

okay, I told myself I wouldn't post this until I had it all written and done with but I'm in a funny mood so I'm posting this chapter tonight.

If I don't get a lot of feed back I'll probably rip it off and wait until I have everything done before I post it again. I'm in a really weird mood: a kind of dejected/silly/romantic mood.

Anyway, I have 3 full chapters done and working on the fourth.

_So_, the story. It's a Harry Potter fic _obviously_ and you'll have to forgive me if the characters get a little out of character since I am not J.K. Rowling and when I set out to write this I did in fact want to write it with more of my own style thing. Anyway, that won't matter soon-ish (the out of character thing).

None of J.K.R.'s characters belong to me nor do I wish to claim them. I only wish to borrow them for a short time in this fanfic of mine.

On with it!

* * *

The Day Harry Potter Disappeared

Chapter One:

The Last Last Day

He gathered her up in his arms.

_You can't leave me_, he thought, _You can't leave me to survive in this world alone._ But her breathing had become shallow; her chest barely moving. As he realized he could not save her, tears streamed down his cheeks. She opened her eyes slowly and raised her hand to cup his face.

"Hey," she smiled despite the immense pain that consumed her, "What happened to you? You're crying, don't cry. If you don't stop crying I'll start crying and I don't want to die unhappy…" her voice trailed off.

He gathered her closer to him, "You can't die! You can't leave me when I've just found you!" She smiled sadly and let her arm fall to her side.

"The last few months have been the best days of my life," she said softly, "I know it's cliche but it's true and I do not regret getting involved."

He hugged her tighter, "No one was supposed to get hurt, no one was supposed to die…"

She laughed weakly, "Everything can never go according to plan, even for you," she traced his jaw line with her finger, "I've always liked the shape of your face, I never told you that."

"Please," he pleaded as a fresh wave of tears rolled down his cheeks, "Please don't do this…"

She smiled as tears descended onto her cheek, "I love you," she whispered. As her hand fell from its memorization of his face, her breathing stopped, her eyes closed, and she died smiling in his arms as he cried over her.

* * *

Harry Potter woke with a start. He had just been having one of the strangest dreams and even though it had been just a dream, he knew it was true. He had had a lot of experience with dreams over the years, but this one confused him. He had been dreaming about himself and a young woman, except he could not remember what she looked like or what had happened to her. He remembered crying and holding her but the details were slipping from his head as if it was water in his hands. He shook his head trying to clear it, but before he could stop it the details slipped from his mind.

_I must be going mad, _he thought rubbing his scar out of habit though it had stopped bothering him last year, _if I'm dreaming about dying beautiful women_. He sat up and looked at his clock on his bedside table, _Lucky me, it's four o'clock in the morning,_ he thought glancing around the room, a_nd to think these are my last days in this room._

He looked over at the sleeping boys around him, or the rather sleeping young men, because the four boys of Gryffindor House had grown up nicely by their seventh year. Neville Longbottom had lost his baby fat and he had shot up like a beanstalk proving to be almost within an inch of Ron. Ron was as long and lanky as ever, and still growing. His hair had become a darker shade of auburn but his immature disposition remained stubbornly intact. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan both grew taller but remained the same as they ever were.

Harry himself had grow a few more inches over the summer and he was beginning to believe he would finally be able to stop craning his neck to look Ron in eye. His hair remained untidy and his eyes were bright green as usual. But after the events of last year, neither his life nor he himself would ever be the same again.

He had finally defeated Lord Voldemort.

_But that was wrong_, he thought. He had not defeated Lord Voldemort alone. It had taken the combined efforts of Ron, Hermione, and he to defeat Lord Voldemort. But it had been he, Harry, who had sent the final killing blow just as the prophecy had predicted so many years ago. Harry still had nightmares about it. At one point they had almost lost Hermione, which would have been devastating for the pair of them but more devastating for Ron. He and Hermione had just admitted to each other and to themselves that they were desperately in love.

Harry smiled at this thought. Though his two best friends had been quite disgusting sometimes when they cuddled all "lovey-dovey" in corners of the common room, Harry was happy for them. Any fool could have seen that they were crazy for each other since the first time Hermione bustled into their compartment on the Hogwarts Express looking for Trevor, Neville's toad. True, Harry had his moments with Hermione, like that time at the beginning of sixth year when they had accidentally locked themselves in a broom closet trying to escape Filch. Since Harry figured they had a few hours to kill, he innocently suggested they snog for a bit, however, both soon realized it would never work between them. Ron had questioned them where they had been and Harry had told him the truth figuring they could have a good laugh about it, but Ron had decked him one in the nose instead.

Now that they were together, Hermione had developed an irritating habit of pestering Harry about his own love life. He would usually shrug her off by telling her it was none of her business what he did with his tongue, which usually shut her up about it. Truth be told, Harry had given his love life a great deal of thought after the two love birds had finally realized their undying love for each other that night. It was not very exciting to tell the truth. He had had his crush and short thing with Cho Chang. And his even shorter relationship with Ginny Weasley, who told him truthfully after their second date that her tastes had changed, and she could not keep trying to live her childhood fantasy of being Harry Potter's girlfriend. Besides the short snog fest with Hermione that was all the romantic activity he had had time for between his studies, quidditch, and his fight against Lord Voldemort.

He sighed, _At least the bloody N.E.W.T.s are over. _He and his fellow classmates had completed their final examinations just the day before. Their education was finally complete and most students like Harry dismissed the teachers' threats that come Monday they would be working even harder to cram in even more information. But Harry didn't care anymore because as far as he was concerned, he was on his way to Auror training. Plus, it was the weekend and Harry had never been bothered to study at the beginning of a weekend before.

Even Hermione seemed to think that studying was not life's top priority now. She and Ron had disappeared after breakfast and had not returned until after lunch. They were both blushing like mad and Ron's hair resembled Harry's but they both seemed pleased, especially Ron. Harry was too used to them to wonder what they had been doing. Harry ignored Ron as he whispered something to Hermione, which she giggled at and blushed.

"Alright, Harry?" Ginny interrupted his thoughts, "You look a bit annoyed."

"Oh," said Harry as he gestured toward Ron and Hermione, "Just them again."

Ginny glanced at Hermione and Ron too, "Yeah, who knew they could act like a pair of love sick ninnies?"

Harry snorted and shrugged, "They're probably just making up for lost time."

Ginny shuddered, "Don't even mention that! This is my brother we're talking about!" Harry laughed but stopped quickly at the look on Ginny's face.

"Okay, okay," Harry said breathing hard, "Why aren't you working Ginny?"

She shrugged, "No one else is working." She gestured around the room and Harry looked up to find it true. Many like Ron and Hermione were curled up in corners on squashy armchairs or couches. Others were eating sweets and playing wizard chess or Exploding Snap.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," said Harry and he returned to Quidditch Through the Ages, which he was reading for perhaps the hundredth time. However, Ginny interrupted him again.

"So, what's up with you Harry? Find anyone special yet? I'm sure there's someone here that's willing to snog you," said Ginny with an evil glint in her eyes.

Harry threw up his hands in frustration and disgust, "Not you too Ginny! Hermione has been bothering me about it all year! That is when she hasn't been talking about the N.E.W.T.s or Ron," he added as an after thought.

Ginny only laughed, "Well, you're the only one who isn't 'hooked up' as the Americans say. You can't blame us for teasing you a little." Harry only grunted in response. Annoyance at Hermione had built up over the past year and Ginny's comments almost made him explode. But he ignored it because Harry knew she was only teasing him to annoy him.

"Women…" Harry muttered almost incoherently.

"Did you say something Harry?" asked Ginny as she looked up from her magazine.

"Err…nothing," Harry said, "Nevermind." She shrugged and went back to perusing the latest articles about the wizard rich and famous. Harry was happy to see that there was not a picture of his head on the front cover or an article about him. Harry had successfully almost all together ignored wizard pop culture for seven long years. Except for Rita Skeeter in his forth year and the Daily Prophet's short spell against him, he had remained out of the papers almost entirely. It was true, he had defeated the greatest dark wizard the world had ever seen, but no one else knew it had been him except Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, and the members of the Order. A great feat considering he was the famous Harry Potter.

* * *

The last days at Hogwarts seemed to fly by in a rush of wind and color. In the days that followed the end of the N.E.W.T.s, Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent their time, in-between closing ceremonies and making preparations to leave Hogwarts, lounging by the lake and in the common room. Classes had been cancelled for the seventh years disproving the teachers' threats of working hard after their exams. But as it grew closer and closer to the last day at Hogwarts, Harry found himself staring around the rooms trying to remember every detail. He visited all his favorite places one last time: the kitchens to visit Dobby, Hagrid's hut, and Hogsmead.

The end of term feast was the best feast Harry had ever had at Hogwarts. Dumbledore closed the feast with words of jubilation and confidence that at last the threat of Lord Voldemort was over after a year of not seeing hide nor hair of the once all-powerful dark wizard. Ron had even stopped twitching so much when he heard Voldemort's name, but only a little.

Harry packed up his trunk for the last time. He looked around his old dormitory one last time thinking to himself what it felt like when he first came to Hogwarts.

_Next year, a new bunch of frightened first years will sleep here, _thought Harry to himself, _perhaps I should leave a message for them. _He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the lower wall along the floor. Engraved into the stone he wrote: Get into trouble but not expelled. -Harry Potter.

_There, _he thought as he put his wand away as he prepared for bed and smiled to himself, _that should do the trick._

The last morning at Hogwarts was a train wreck for the seventh years. Teachers and their favorite students said tearful good-byes. Only the girls of course because the boys would sooner moon the headmaster than cry in public, or for that matter cry at all. Professor McGonagall had even come up to him to say farewell. He had never realized she had liked him that much.

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Madame Bloom, had been the first Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to survive an entire year at Hogwarts since anyone could remember. Harry was sure she would stay awhile longer too because her flamboyant personality attracted the friendship of the teachers as well as students. She could also cast a nasty hex or two when she was particularly annoyed. She always told them she saved that special treatment solely for the seventh years.

The train ride to London was no better. Most of the seventh year girls were still crying about someone or something. Harry had stopped listening by now and Ron and Hermione had long since retreated into the corner of their compartment. They talked, snogged, and slept as one. It was going to be unbearable for Harry to have Ron as a flat mate if Ron ate, drank, and breathed Hermione twenty-four seven.

_Hopefully, _thought Harry_, they'll get married or something and I'll be rid of them for awhile. _He looked around the compartment Luna Lovegood, who seemed to become their friend in fifth year (never can tell with ol' Loonie), was reading The Quibbler upside down. However, Harry was quite sure none of the articles in that particular issue required the reader to turn the magazine upside down. He suspected that she either enjoyed reading it that way or it had become a habit.

The only other occupant was Neville, who had seated himself by a window. He had been staring out it the entire trip, apparently in deep thought. Harry was on the verge of asking what Neville was contemplating so deeply about when Dean and Seamus dropped by to ask if they wanted to play exploding snap one last time. One last time turned into two last times, then three. Before they knew it Ron and Hermione were even playing and the whole lot of them were rolling around on the floor laughing.

Before he knew it, the train arrived at King's Cross Station. Harry could not help feeling that something was missing as he trudged through the train cars with his luggage. A fanfare, perhaps, should have been playing as they exited the train. But then Harry realized seventh years had been graduating from Hogwarts for centuries. If not that, then what was missing? He could not shake the feeling that he was missing out on something. And as he saw his fellow students descend from the train into the waiting arms of their parents, he realized what he was missing.

_Wait-no. Don't think about Siri- _he stopped himself. Harry had long been struggling not to think about Sirius' death since that night he died. He found that as his last year at Hogwarts progressed, he was brooding more and more about Sirius. He would sometimes kick himself for it. Harry knew Sirius would not want him to obsess about his death, but Harry was only human after all.

How could anyone expect Harry to forget what happened? Harry had been through so much and seen so many people die or some close to drying. After the defeat of Lord Voldemort the truth finally was recognized and Sirius' name was cleared. Once people realized Sirius was Harry's godfather, they felt sorry for his death and pitied Harry. He became the tragic, boy wonder again to the public. Every once in awhile someone came up to him to offer his or her condolences and often times it meant nothing to him because they had not known Sirius. Why should they care? Harry was glad no one knew he had defeated Lord Voldemort. The last thing he wanted was even _more_ attention.

* * *

A/N

Whee and that was chapter 1. Hope you like it. Remember to review after you read.


	2. Those Gits!

Ch. 2 PG 6

A/N

Sorry for the totally insane note at the beginning of chapter1. Like I said. I was in a really weird mood and technically I haven't totally recovered. lol

Anyway, here's chapter 2. In a timely fashion even. Told you I had the first 3 chapters written already.

* * *

The Day Harry Potter Disappeared

Chapter Two:

Those Gits!

Harry could not stand it anymore! Reporters banging on his door twenty-four hours a day seven days a week! People exclaiming over him as he walked down the street! He half-wished he could wear his invisibility cloak forever, but Hermione kept reminding him he needed to face everyone now. Hiding from his fame only made it worse in the long run.

"It's better to get it over with sooner than later, Harry," she continually said. But Harry could not help being exasperated with Hermione. He thought she could be a little more understanding. She did not have a crowd of women following _her _everywhere she went. She did not have fifty owls at _her _door bringing fan mail and gifts. She did not have the whole bloody _world_trying to thank him for his _great deed. _The only reason Hermione did not have a gaggle of admirers was simple: Mundungus said Harry defeated the dark lord by himself.

Not even a month after Harry and Ron had settled into their new flat, Dung had spilled the beans. The morning after Harry had woken up to one hundred owls at his door and a crowd of reporters pressing in on his windows and it was all Dung's fault.

According to Lupin, Dung had been at a bar that night and he had one too many drinks. After that last drink he met a pretty girl and he wanted to impress her. He decided to tell her what everyone wanted to know: Who killed he-who-must-not-be-named-even-though-he's-dead?

The pretty girl happened to work for the Daily Prophet and she went straight to her office that night to alert her superiors. The next morning Harry saw his face plastered all over the front cover of the Morning Prophet. Dumbledore was furious with Dung and he was said to almost kick Dung out of his office.

Because of him, Harry's life went instantly down the tube. He could barely get to Auror training without being late to every single class. Reporters and obsessive witches and wizards followed him around like lost puppies. People offered to buy his meals so often that he began to go to muggle restaurants and eat at home. He would not have been surprised if he had an official fan club, but he did not want to find out if he did have one. The thought frightened him beyond belief. Dumbledore did all he could to shield Harry from the press but there was little Dumbledore could do now that the cat was out of the bag.

Harry found himself coming home each day wishing he were somebody else. Ron and Hermione were always there for him when he needed to rant, but even that was not enough anymore. He had practically bit Ron's head off when he had suggested to Harry that he should move to a more remote location, and forgo being an Auror for the time being. Harry wanted to be an Auror more than anything and he enjoying training, but as the weeks went by the frustration and stress started to show in his work.

One day after class, Professor Mort pulled him aside. The professor always told them that running away from their problems or fears only made life worse. He always said that determination and perseverance made anything possible. Harry liked Professor Mort. He taught an interesting class on defensive theory and practical use. Professor Mort always seemed to be in a good mood but that day he looked uncharacteristically somber.

"Potter, I've spoken with your other teachers and," he paused, "and we think you need a break." Harry gaped open mouthed at him. This was the last thing he expected his "tough it out" professor to say.

"What?" stammered Harry.

"We think you need a break, Harry," he reiterated more gently, "You've been under a lot of pressure since the world found out you killed Voldemort. It's still showing in your work. Your spellwork is erratic and you seem to be tired all the time."

"I'll be okay," Harry retorted, "It will pass. It always does."

Professor Mort shook his head, "Potter, it's been two months and your condition has not improved significantly."

"I will not give up the chance to become an Auror just because of some idiotic reporters-"

"Potter at this rate you won't-"

"I need to become an Auror so I can help people!"

"You won't be any help to anyone if you're distracted and emotional," Professor Mort sighed, "Hasn't Mistress Beallet taught you anything? When you're an Auror you have to be able to separate your personal problems and emotions from your job. Otherwise you make thoughtless mistakes."

"But-"

"No 'buts.' What if you were out investigating a site and criminals surprised you and your partner? If you had your mind on your worries and woes you could cast a spell incorrectly or too late and risk your partner's life," said Professor Mort, "Anyway, you've been excused from all your classes for awhile."

"What am I supposed to do now?" Harry almost yelled, "Go about my life while every person on the planet follows me around?"

"No, we're keeping you busy," Professor Mort said with a half smile, "You're going to America as a sort of international intern. You know enough practical magic so you'll be alright and you'll get good job experience."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Mort cut him off, "Look, Harry, you already have a ticket on the Transatlantic Knight Bus so all you need to do is pack your things and leave." And with that he left Harry to his very confused and angry thoughts.

* * *

Harry glared out his window at the marshmallow fluff clouds. As soon as he had arrived home after Professor Mort gave him the tickets, he fully had expected Ron and Hermione to cry in outrage and exasperation like he did. But it seems that he did not know his two best friends as well as he had thought he did. They had been expectantly waiting for him as he had arrived home at the flat.

Before he could tell them anything, Hermione cut him off, "So did he give you the tickets?" They had proceeded to pile his bags (which they had packed earlier) on top of him. Then they had pushed him out the door without further ado. They even had sent Fred and George ahead to make sure he got on the bus.

George had pushed him up the stairs of the bus and said, "Always knew there was something wrong with you, mate. You must be stark raving mad to refuse to go on a mandatory extended vacation."

So there he was, sitting on an overstuffed, cushy, first class chair on the Transatlantic Knight Bus, brooding about how all his friends and teachers conspired against him. They did not care about his opinion. They did not stop to think to ask him what he wanted. He wanted life as normal and familiar as possible. Uprooting him to the unfamiliar, faraway United States was anything but keeping life normal.

And so he sat there unable to appreciate the beauty around him as the Transatlantic Knight Bus flew on the rolling clouds. The towns below bustled about their business. Soon the towns disappeared and the only thing to be seen for miles around was the vast blue ocean. Harry had never seen the ocean before in his life and when the driver announced that they were now over that big blue wet thing Harry tore himself from his thoughts and gaped at it. He had never seen anything like it. The blue waves seemed to go on forever in every direction and he could not see how they would ever find land again. But, he was not sure he wanted to find land, _ever again._

Even though Harry had moaned and groaned about going on this trip, he soon found that he was enjoying himself immensely. No one seemed to notice who he was; granted that half the passengers were asleep, but the remaining passengers kept to themselves. Stan and Ernie did not work on the transatlantic bus, so he did not receive special treatment from the driver or attendants.

He was amazed. He had not thought their plan would have worked so well.

In an effort to decrease the amount of attention Harry received, Dumbledore had helped him get an order to ban anyone from photographing him or using any old pictures of him. Immediately after, Harry had grown out his hair and he had gotten contacts. When his hair had grown long enough, Harry parted his hair on the side to hide his famous scar. He had noticed that his hair behaved most days as long as he showered in the morning. Harry had wondered why he had not grown his hair out long before now. True, his change in appearance had not stopped a gaggle of people from following him all over London, but if he traveled outside the city, people noticed him less and less.

People around the world had begun to wonder if the famous Harry Potter had disappeared because there were hardly any new photos of him. Rumors that he was in hiding from Voldemort's old supporters began to circulate and Dumbledore encouraged the rumors. Harry had begun to fade from the world's radar. So, Harry should not have been surprised that no one noticed him, but after all, the lack of attention was a new experience for him.

He began to think his luck was turning around until he glanced at his tickets for the first time. They did not read "Harry James Potter." They read "James Henry Harrison." Those sneaks had given him a fake name or maybe even the wrong tickets!

But then another thought popped in his head, _But this won't match my passport! I'm going to have big trouble when I get to America!_ He frantically searched for his passport to quail his racing heart. His passport read "James Henry Harrison." Relief began to seep through him, but then a new worried entered his brain. He hoped that they had not bewitched his passport. A bewitched passport could be detected and land him in a load of trouble. He pulled out his wand and glanced around before tapping it as he mumbled the revealing spell. Nothing happened.

He sighed with relief and settled into his over-stuffed chair. He understood. The staff had not badgered him about being Harry Potter because according to his ticket, he was not Harry Potter. He wasn't Harry Potter anymore. He had been longing to be someone else for so long and his wish had finally come true. He wasn't Harry Potter; he was James Harrison, an average young man sitting in first class seat on his way to America. He sighed again and rolled over to dose off.

_Those gits thought of everything,_ he thought lazily, _I'll have to thank them later._

He slept for the remaining duration of the flight. With his mind at ease for the first time in months, sleep came to him quite easily. When the bus landed in the States an attendant gently shook him awake.

He jumped and muttered still half asleep, "Where are we?"

The attendant giggled, "We're on the eastern coast of Florida, Mr. Harrison," she strolled away to assist the other passengers.

_Florida,_ he thought bewilderedly, _Last I heard, Florida had the least dark activity reported. Those gits better not have given me a desk job…_

Harry sighed and gathered up his luggage. But, his happiness did not evaporate at the prospect of a desk job because he was someone else now. Just thinking about it filled him with a happiness he had not felt since before Sirius died.

At that thought Harry wilted a little, _If only he were here to see me now…no. He would want me to be happy. So, now I'm a completely normal, not famous guy on a paid, mandatory vacation in the sunny beaches of Florida._

As he walked off the bus and out into the bright sunshine, a massive smile spread across on his face and the light in his eyes would have outshined the stars. Harry walked a few yards but he stopped deciding to let his Yankee contact to find him.

And not long after someone tapped him on his left shoulder and said, "You must be my assignment from merry old England because you've had this big goofy grin on your face since you got off." He turned to the left but no one was there. Then someone laughed and stepped in front of him from his right side.

"I had a feeling you'd fall for that," it was a young woman. She had very short, spunky hair that curled at the ends in all the right places. She had lightly tanned skin that did not quite hide the freckles across the bridge of her nose. She wore a plain blue tank top, which matched her eyes, and a pair of shorts and flip-flops.

She held out her hand, "Catherine Blanc and you must be James Harrison." For a split second he wanted to correct her and say, "No. I'm Harry Potter," but he stopped himself.

_I'm not Harry Potter, _he reminded himself.

As he shook her hand he laughed more at himself than at her, "But how'd you know?"

She shrugged innocently, "Well, from what I've heard about Merry Old England, it's gloomy and raining all the year long. So, I figured a Brit would be ecstatic to come to the sunshine state where it's sunny everyday, and it only goes below fifty degrees three days out of the year," then she frowned and laughed, "That's fifty degrees Fahrenheit, mind you."

Harry laughed too, "I hadn't heard that but I look forward to this miracle weather. But following your logic, wouldn't all the passengers have this 'goofy grin?'"

She smiled and looked at the ground, "Yeah, well, every agent researches his or her case, so I might have studied your picture once or twice," she looked up, "Why don't we get going? We could apperate to the condo but I figured this would be a splendid time to show you around muggle style." And without further ado, she grabbed his bags and marched out toward the exit.

He was taken aback at her abruptness and recovered in time to shout at her, "Why don't you just levitate those?"

She yelled back at him, "No magic allowed until you get through customs!"

"Oh," he said feeling rather stupid and he ran after her toward the door. If he had not been looking around at the palm trees and nice cars, he would have noticed Catherine gripping her wand tightly in her hand as she carried his luggage. He would have noticed how she scanned the area with a trained eye and how she breathed a sigh of relief when they entered the building.

* * *

First thing he noticed about Florida was that is was bloody hot and humid. He barely took in a word Catherine said as they drove through town with the windows rolled down. Even with the wind blowing his hair back he was still dying from the heat. At first, he had been worried that Catherine would notice his scar and she would start throwing questions at him, but she kept her eyes on the road. She did not even seem to mind the hellish heat. She just jabbered on about the best local shops and restaurants, and how she hated the "snowbirds" that came down in the winter.

"Err…you don't like white birds that migrate here in the winter?"

"No! Snowbirds are what we call the people who come down from the northern states for about three months out of the year while their stupid condos remain empty for nine months. I hate the condos on the beach! They obstruct everyone's view and they keep building more and more.

"But don't you live in a condo?"

"Yeah, but mine isn't on the beach. It's across the street from the beach and I live in there year round. That's the difference." As they neared the beach Harry smelled the salt in the air. The breeze lulled and gently played about his face. He took a deep breath of the sea air and he felt a wave of calm wash over him.

Catherine glanced over at him and smirked, "The ocean has a calming effect on people. I've lived by the sea for a very long time and I don't know if I'll ever be able to leave it. It's hard to leave once that salt's gotten into your blood." Harry looked ruefully back at her as she drove.

_Salt's gotten into your blood? But doesn't your blood already have salt in it. I wonder what she means… _Harry thought. He pondered his new contact and her strange ideas as the car sped by the beachside. The long grass swayed in the breeze and the bushes rustled about as if an animal had just run through it. The waves were small and Harry was amazed he could see it from the road. Soon, however, they reached a patch of condos that obstructed the gorgeous view, and he began to see what she hated the condos on the beach so much.

When they pulled onto the driveway, Catherine faced him. Harry quickly made sure his hair was securely over his scar.

She laughed, "Are you fussy about your hair? It has to look exactly right? Well, you'll get over that after a few days on the beach." She rose and walked toward the side door.

* * *

A/N

Whee and that was chapter 2. Hope you like it. Remember to review after you read. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Yes, there will be those horrible cliches (like let the cat out of the bag because, I mean, come on, what was I thinking?) throughout the entire thing because, heck, they're true, aren't they? That's how they became cliches.


	3. No Whipped Cream Please

A/N

Whooooo! Longest chapter yet. And this is the last timely update you'll get for at least a couple days. I expect I'll have the 4th chapter done by the end of the week. If I don't post it by at least Saturday feel free to bother me about it. Anyway, let's get on with it. And if you spot any really stupid typos would you please point them out to me because I don't have the time to read through and look **_again _**tonight.

* * *

The Day Harry Potter Disappeared

Chapter Three:

No Whipped Cream Please

Harry looked up from his paper and morning coffee. The sun streamed through the window above the sink as the birds chirped merrily outside. He chuckled at his son and daughter as they fought over the syrup. His wife bustled around the kitchen, and every once in awhile, she sneaked a glance at him. She smiled and rubbed her swollen belly lovingly before going back to her work. He smiled at his very pregnant, beautiful wife.

As he turned his head the room started to tilt slowly. Harry shook it as he frowned. The room became hazy.

_Dad,_ his son tugged on his shirt, C_an we go to the baseball fields after school and hit some?_

_Noooo! Daddy! You hit with Jason yesterday,_ his daughter whined as she pulled on his shirt too, _You promised you'd take me to the beach! _He shook his head trying to make the room stop spinning.

_Daddy...are you okay? _Jason asked worriedly.

His wife laughed, _You two are gonna drive him crazy. The bus will be here any minute! Go! _she said playfully,_ Make sure you have everything in your backpacks,_ She smiled and handed him a brief case, _and if you don't hurry we won't have the money for three of these crazy children. _She patted her belly smiling down at it. The little boy and girl came running up with their backpacks. Harry felt dizzy. His head was heavy. He stood up trying to clear his aching brain.

_Bye, Daddy! _his daughter ran smack into his middle and hugged him tightly.

_Yeah, bye Dad, _his son latched on to the other side of his middle. The world stopped spinning for a moment. His children grounded him. They ran off giggling. He turned to see his wife smiling widely at him as she wiped a frying pan clean. The world spun in a giant lurch.

_Wait!-_

* * *

Harry woke with a start, _again_. He opened his eyes and stared at the invisible black hole in ceiling. Children, a wife, was that his future? What happened to the drying woman in his arms? He had been having the same dream about her until now. 

But, he realized, he had been very happy in his dream. He had felt really loved for the first time in his life. However, he could not remember what his wife's face looked like.

_Just like the dying woman,_ he thought.

"Gahh..." he groaned and rubbed his eyes, "I must be going mad..." Catherine picked just that moment to pop her head in the door.

"What do you mean going mad?" she scratched her head for a second then answered her own question, "Oh, you mean going crazy. We're all a little insane here," she disappeared but returned almost immediately.

"Breakfast is ready, by the way," she dashed away chuckling to herself. Harry sighed and sat up as he put his feet over the side of the bed. The sun shone in from the two large sliding glass doors to the left of him. The ocean crashed quite audible even from across the street. He looked at the paintings that covered the walls of the spacious room. Most of them depicted the ocean or a crowded beach.

A few, here or there, were of two little girls laughing and smiling together. One was clearly a younger version of Catherine. Though she was a little paler and more freckly, the little girl's laughter and sparkling gave her away instantly. The other girl only smiled serenely at him. She had long, brown, wavy hair with freckles everywhere. She was paler than Catherine. Her eyes seemed so familiar. Where had he seen her eyes before...

Harry shook himself and shrugged off his shirt and shorts. He pulled on a polo shirt and a pair of jeans and he walked barefoot into the kitchen. As he walked in Catherine bustled around as a strange, young woman sat at the table.

"I hope you like scrambled eggs," Catherine called from the counter.

The young woman at the table scoffed, "What she means is, 'I hope you like scrambled eggs because that's all I can make.'"

"If you don't like them you could always do some of the cooking," Catherine said as she brought a plate full of eggs, bacon and grits to the table, "And don't you start on my grits. Just because I make them doesn't make you have to eat them."

The woman rolled her eyes, "She just _loves_ grits."

Catherine sat down and motioned to Harry to do the same, "You'll have to excuse her. She's a bit grumpy in the morning." Harry looked bewilderedly between the two of them.

The woman said, "And you'll have to excuse Cat's manners," she held out her hand, "I'm Jo Riis." She had long, brown hair and bright blue eyes. She was paler than Catherine and she had freckles everywhere.

"I just got back late last night from an assignment. I work in the department too." He shook her hand, "Fantastic! You both seem too young to be fully qualified

Aurors."  
Catherine laughed, "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or insult!"

"We're just special like that," Jo said without further comment. She placed her hands around her cup of tea and bent down over it.

"As you can see, Jo's not the morning person in the family," Catherine snickered as she started eating.

"You're related?" asked Harry over his plate of eggs and bacon.

"Yeah," Catherine said through a mouth full of grits and Harry was forcibly reminded of Ron, "But technically only half. Jo's my half sister."

Jo rolled her eyes and whispered to Harry, "She just loves telling people that."

Harry chuckled as he took another sip of his coffee, _So she's the little girl from the paintings..._

"So, what's the schedule for today?"

"Well, since it's Sunday, absolutely nothing!" Catherine laughed at Harry's bewildered expression, "You just got here. You didn't expect to start working right away, did you? We take laziness very seriously here." She laughed some more at his expression.

"Stop scaring him, or he'll start to think we're beach bums," Jo said over her tea and paper.

"That's what we are today. So as soon as you finish, James." Catherine clapped a hand on his shoulder as she stood up, "I'll take you to see the ocean. Hope you brought your bathing suits."

He glanced over at Jo, who was still sipping her tea and reading her paper, "Will you be joining us?"

She looked up, "No, not today. I have a lot of unpacking to do and some follow up paper work," Harry opened his mouth to ask but she cut him off, "I've been gone for two weeks. Catherine's just so hyped up she fails to mention little details like that. She's always almost hyped up like that. Don't know how she does it myself. But anyway, you have fun today for me." She returned to her tea and paper.

* * *

Three hours later Harry was lying on a towel in the hot sun feet from the crashing waves. 

Catherine plopped down next to him, "I'm surprised you lasted this long. The water tires a body out."

"It's great," said Harry, "The ocean, I mean."

"Yeah..." Catherine laid back and closed her eyes.

"Hey, CatherineWhat?" he stopped as she laughed at him.

"No one's called me Catherine in awhile. It sounds funny," she said.

"I'll stop if you want."

"No, no. It's okay. So what were you saying?" she turned over to face him.

"I was going to ask who painted all the paintings in the room I'm in?"

"Jo did."

"Oh, I thought she might've," said Harry setting down on his own towel.

"She seems the type, doesn't she? She's normally a bit nicer in the morning but she's been traveling all night," said Catherine closing her eyes again, "It's nice to have her back. An empty house can be terribly boring," she rose up and opened her eyes as she smiled at him, "But now that you're here that won't be a problem anymore."

Harry smiled, "No, I guess not but wait. Am I taking Jo's room? I can sleep on the couch or even get my own"

Catherine smacked his head, "Stop worrying about it. Jo isn't sleeping on the couch. She's sleeping in a bed and trying to get your own place nearby would be dreadfully cumbersome and difficult, not to mention extremely expensive."

Harry vaguely noticed that she managed to avoid answering his question before he retorted, "Money's not a prob"

"I know it isn't for you."

Harry stopped, "lem. Wait. How do you know money isn't a problem for _me?_"

But Catherine smoothly continued unruffled, "I studied your profile. I'm not just a pretty face! I have to work sometimes, too."

"Fine. Fine," Harry said exasperated.

He wondered what else in his profile was true. Had they just changed his name and left it at that? Any intelligent, busybody in the department could figure out that he was Harry Potter. What if they did? What would happen to him? Would the whole fiasco happened again? Screaming girls and reporters at his door day and night. He would not be able to go anywhere alone again. He'd have to wear his invisibility cloak for the rest of his life. The world would not believe it if he tried to disappear again.

"James...JA-AMES!" Catherine shook him lightly, "Are you okay? I've been yelling at you for five minutes. Jo should have lunch ready by now."

"I thought she didn't cook?"

"No. She doesn't cook breakfast. Now come on! I'm starving!"

Harry stood and shook the sand off his towel. He flung it haphazardly over his shoulder and followed Catherine up the beach and across the street to her condo. The entered the house to find Jo sitting at the table pouring over a mass of papers that covered half the table.

She pointed to the stove as they entered the kitchen, "Hotdogs are in the pot. Buns, plates, and condiments are on the counter."

"Hotdogs! It's James' first day and you made hotdogs?" Jo glared at Catherine, "Okay, okay. I'll back off, but only because you're tired and got a mountain of paperwork."

"Hotdogs are fine," Harry said, "I don't think I've ever had one anyway." Jo continued to focus on her papers. When the two of them had gotten their food and sat down, Catherine fixed him with a beady eye.

"Normally, we take turns making lunch but since you're here you can make it. And don't try the 'Men don't cook excuse,'" Jo snorted and Catherine scowled at her, "Well, he's gotta work at least part of his share around here." Jo shook her head not looking up from her work.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" said Harry as he bit into his hotdog. It was...interesting.

"No," she said without looking up, "I've already eaten." Harry tried to engage her in conversation but gave up after all he could get out of her were one-word answers. He turned to find Catherine smiling at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," she stuffed the last of her hotdog into her mouth. Several swallows later she said, "That was a nice morning wasn't it? Your hair is nice and messy now, too."

He had forgotten that his hair and more importantly he had forgotten about hiding his scar. She laughed at him as he frantically reached up to feel his hair and make sure his scar was securely hidden. To his relief his hair seemed to have a mind of its own and covered the scar automatically. He sighed and watched Catherine take her cup and plate to the sink. He would have to remember to check every once in awhile so Catherine would not have a chance to notice. He looked down at his half eaten lunch as Catherine left the room, and Jo looked up for the first time.

"You must be pretty sandy and sticky and gross," she smiled at him as he ran his fingers through his hair cautiously, "Your room has a bathroom with a shower in it. You can use that. There should be some towels and soap in there; if there isn't any come tell me and I'll find some for you."

"Thanks," Harry breathed, "I need a shower." Jo waved off his thanks and continued with her work.

* * *

Harry shook his head to rid it of the last drops of water. The shower had felt wonderful. He found, however, that the shower had left him exhausted. He ambled into the sitting room to find Catherine sitting on the floor surrounded by a sea of papers. She had also showered and her hair curled a little even when it was damp. 

"So this is your idea of doing nothing?" Harry said playfully.

"Well, Jo really has a lot to do and I owe her a couple favors so I thought I'd get rid of one of them by helping her out," Catherine shrugged ignoring his playful manner.

"Can I do anything to help?" said Harry as he learned over the papers.

She shook her head, "Nope. Technically, all this is classified and since you haven't officially started work. You can't even look at these documents."

"What's the big deal? We're on the same side."

"Hey, you're really not even supposed to be in this room," she pushed him playfully, "Go savor your last day of freedom because come tomorrow you're working for me."

Harry shook his head and walked out of the room. He wandered throughout the condo exploring the different rooms. After he ventured into every room in the condo at least twice, his feet led him to the kitchen and he plopped down at the table. Jo did not look up from her scattered papers. She had tied her hair loosely back in a low ponytail and a few tendrils had fallen out of place framing her face. He watched her reading the documents and making a few notes here or there. He watched her for several minutes before she finally looked up from her work.

"Did Cat give you the whole spiel about how you aren't even allowed in the same room as sensitive documents!"

"Yeah, but"

"Obviously, you didn't listen because your hovering is driving me crazy! But ya know, I need a break," she laid down her pen and straightened up, "I want ice cream. Let's go. There's a great little place down the street."

"But I don't want to"

Before he could finish she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him out the door.

"Waitwhat about your shoes?"

"I don't need shoes where we're going. Now, come on!" she dragged him along the sidewalk.

They walked almost a mile south of the condo before harry saw the sign for a small, walk-up ice cream place.

"They have the best sundaes here," said Jo eagerly as he walked up to the window.

"What can I get you?" said an employee named Sue.

"I'll have a strawberry sundae without whipped cream or nuts," Jo said brightly. She paid for her sundae and turned to Harry, "Are you going to get something, James?"

"Err...I'll have...uhh...I'll try a M&M hurricane," Harry forked over the money for his ice cream and indiscreetly checked in the window that his hair still hid his scar.

Shortly after, their desserts appeared and they sat down at one of the tables surrounding the small place. They ate in silence as the cars rushed pass on the two-lane highway before them. The ocean roared and the seagulls squawked in the background. Harry looked around to check that no one was about. Sue had closed her window at the counter (probably to keep the cold in) and no one else stopped to eat.

"So, I've been meaning to ask you," Harry started in an undertone, "You live in a muggle residence, right?"

"Yes," Jo said after she had swallowed her last strawberry, "My mom isn't a witch but our dad is. Both Cat and I grew up in this area."

"Oh. So, are your parents divorced?"

"No. Our dad married Cat's mom, a witch, because his family wanted to keep the line pureblood. But just before Cat's first birthday her mom died."

"Oh," said Harry sadly, "my mum and dad died around my first birthday, too."

Jo nodded slowly, "I'm sorry. Anyway, our dad took it pretty hard even though he was forced to marry Cat's mom. When you live with someone for over a year you start to have affection for her. So, he moved to this tiny, unheard of town to get away from it all, ya know?" Harry nodded understanding more than she realized, "And not long after he fell in love with my mom and had me. You wouldn't think Catherine would remember her mom when she was barely a year old but magic works in mysterious ways. She did remember her mom and still does. She used to resent mom and me because our dad couldn't survive on his own with just her. She knew our dad was only a man and needed a wife but when you're young emotions leave no room for logic. And we put up with her jealousy and resentment until she finally came to her senses about five years ago," she stopped suddenly, "Wow, that's more than you'll ever want to know about me."

_But you didn't really talk about yourself,_ Harry thought to himself.

However, outwardly he just shrugged and said, "It's okay. I don't have a file to read on the two of you so I have to get my information the hard way. Good old-fashioned curiosity."

"Well, you better be careful. Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

* * *

A/N 

and as chapter three ends the lights dim and the curtains lower and I walk out onto the stage to a silent crowd who start throwing tomatoes at me! Ahhh! Then I run off the stage and go eat ice cream that's yummy.

lol

I just felt like painting that picture for you. another lovely chapter filled with laughter. Anyway, I'm off to do my homework or just procrastinate some more.

tootles


	4. Sand Creatures

A/N yay! I'm updated sooner than a month later! Who knows when I'll be posting the next chapter though! I wouldn't expect it before the end of next week and that's if we're lucky. I'm feeling very spent at the moment, very low on motivation and inspiration but I promise to post more ASAP! I promise to post by the end of the month.

Whoo.

Let's get on with it shall we? It's just getting interesting...

* * *

The Day Harry Potter Disappeared

Chapter Four:

Sand Creatures

After finishing their ice cream, Jo and Harry walked along the beach towards the condo. The breeze gently blew at their faces as the ebb of the waves brushed their toes. A seagull soared above them looking for a nice, stupid person to steal food from; while a heron edged slowly towards a fisherman's bait bucket hoping to steal a fish or two for his dinner.

As they walked along the beach, Harry and Jo came upon a little boy and girl. A few minutes passed as Harry stopped to watch a little girl and boy throw sand clods at each other. They laughed and screamed as they smashed handfuls of wet sand in each other's hair. Harry chuckled as the little girl hit the boy squarely in the chest with a large ball of sand. After while, the little boy and the little girl disappeared, and small, giggling sand creatures stood in their place. Each ran screaming and laughing into the waves to wash the sand off, only to race back to the beach to grab even more sand and continue the war.

Jo caught him smiling at the kids and she smiled, "I remember playing that game with my sister."

"Oh, so it's a game with rules, then?" said Harry, a smile slowly crept onto his face.

"Not really," Jo shrugged, "There are unwritten rules."

"Then how do you know what they are?" countered Harry.

"Everybody knows what they are..." she pushed him lightly when he laughed at her, "Don't throw sand in the face. Don't run crying to mommy if you lose. That sort of thing," Jo laughed, "A sand fight is the best kind of fight."

Harry smiled, "A snowball fight is pretty good, too."

"Yeah, but then you get all cold," she shivered, "I'd rather be sandy than cold."

Harry shrugged and watched the children again. They had started building a sandcastle. The little boy hurriedly packed sand into buckets and turned them over to make the walls and turrets. While he constructed the castle, the little girl collected pretty shells and seagull feathers from along the beach. The little boy finished and as he prepared to destroy his creation (as little boys tend to do) the little girl came back and stopped him.

"Nooooo! Micheal! We haven't finished!" she yelled at him as she dropped her handful of shells and feathers.

She proceeded to smooth the castle walls and add shells to it like windows. She placed the feathers on top of the towers like flags. Michael mumbled and grumbled as she completed her task, but after she finished they both stood back to admire their work. The shells glinted in the sunlight and the feathers waved in the breeze. It was a castle fit for any king crab and looked as if it could withstand any attack. However, a split second later the little kids jumped all over the castle and kicked it to rubble.

Harry did not know how long he watched those kids or why he watched them. He had seen children play before now. He had watched wizard children play on toy broomsticks and muggle children run at the play park. It had never affected him like this. Then the memory of his dream stirred in his mind.

_Is this what it's like to have children...you're happy just watching them play,_ Harry shook himself mentally, _What's gotten into me?_ He tore his gaze away from the two children as they started chucked sand at each other, _again._

"Watching them makes me want to be a kid again," said Jo, she had observed him as he watched the children play, "or have kids of my own. But there's plenty of time for that."

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I guess. I'm an only child but I grew up with my cousin so I've never wanted a sibling. We don't get along, but I suppose it would be nice to have a sibling I could get along with."

"Well, the beach is always more fun with another person. Even when Cat and I didn't get along we always had fun at the beach. Because at the beach friends can be friends and enemies chuck sand at each other without getting into trouble with their mothers!" she threw up hands triumphantly and laughed.

They walked a few feet before Jo spoke again, "My mom loves the beach. Sometimes she gets up early just to watch the sun rise over the ocean. I've never shared her enthusiasm for it."

"Why?"

"She gets up a little _too_ early for me."

"What time?"

"About 6:00 A.M."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

* * *

"Where have you been!" Catherine (red faced) exasperatedly asked Jo as they walked into the room, "I've been trying to help you out, but I got stuck and went to find you but you weren't in the kitchen. You weren't anywhere and you didn't leave a note so I could only guess where you went. Then I couldn't find James and I started to worry my head off! You know how im"

Jo threw up her hands, "Chill. James was hovering so I took him to get some ice cream. We walked home along the beach. Don't worry about the work. So what's the problem exactly?"

Harry hastily retreated to his room as Catherine sucked in her breath and exploded on a tirade about Jo being uncharacteristically irresponsible and how she needed to know where they were and on and on and on.

_Catherine acts like she's Jo's mother. Must be an older sister thing,_ Harry thought.

* * *

"How could you forget to tell me?" Catherine screeched.

Jo put her hands on Catherine's shoulders and gripped her lightly, "_Catherine. _**Breathe. **You need to calm down. We can't talk about this now, not here with him. I give you my full permission to yell and scream at me later."

Catherine breathed slowly as her face began to return to its normal color. Jo removed her hands only after Catherine began to breathe normally.

"Cat, we took a walk and got ice cream. He's only been here a day. You're just being paranoid. The plan **will** work. We **will** get him when this is over. We just have to smile and nod for now. He hasn't realized it yet, but by Monday he'll be on to us or at least suspicious. He's not stupid."

Catherine nodded, "This whole situation bothers me. It's dangerous for him to be here. Why can't we just imprison him and be over with it?"

"We need tangible evidence. Our superiors won't believe any of this unless we get rock solid proof that's he's behind it all."

"I hate kissing up to him."

"Yeah, I know but think about it. It's almost all over. The last phase has begun."

* * *

Harry sat down at the little desk in his room just as the yelling ceased.

_At least, they stopped fighting,_ he thought, B_ut why did Catherine need to know where they had gone?_

This question preoccupied his mind as he took a piece of parchment out and a quill to write a letter to Ron and Hermione. It seemed odd that she would even care where they were for a couple of hours. They were adults, after all, with jobs and lives. He did not need a baby-sitter or a mother to keep track of him and keep him out of trouble.

Jo certainly did not need one. Nothing seemed to ruffle her. She was in control of herself and the situation at all times. She had said that she did not know how Catherine bounced around energetically all day, but Harry wondered how Jo remained calm and collected all the time. She had a quiet charm about her.

Catherine's charm was different. It was a friendly, in-your-face sweetness that won everyone over immediately. They were polar opposites in almost every way. They only seemed to share their blue eyes and brown hair.

_Maybe she's jealous of the time I spent with Jo,_ the thought struck him suddenly, _there's definitely a rivalry between them, _but then he remembered the advice Fred and George gave him before he left.

_"Now, you're going to be over there with all those girl Yanks and they'll probably be so different and nice you'll think every one of them wants you. It's not true, mate, their women are just like our women."_

_"They're absolutely insane like our women. Just when you think you've got them" George interrupted._

_"they'll turn your world upside down," Fred finished._

_Harry had laughed at him and he had asked Fred how he knew. George had answered for him, "We've been there, prat. We're going international with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. We met with our Yank contacts for over two weeks last year."_

_"So don't get yourself a big head, mate," Fred continued, "or they'll all talk and you'll never get one to even look at you."_

_Maybe I am getting a big head, or maybe, _he thought,_ Fred and George are mad._

He looked down at the parchment and quill in his hands, and remembered that he needed to write a letter. He paused for a moment thinking about what to say and then he began to write:

_Dear Ron and Hermione,_

_You could have told me you gave me that passport! I didn't realize I had it until I noticed no one was fussing over me. It was weird. Thank you._

_Anyway, the flight over here wasn't so bad. You don't notice the bus jumping when you're in the air. The ocean is incredible! And BIG, really big. Florida is bloody humid but really sunny. My Yank contacts are two half-sisters, Catherine and Jo. They're sort of strange, but they're quite friendly and their fighting makes it seem more like home._

_I ate a hotdog today. You'd like it Ron and they've got an extensive book collection in their den. You'd like it Hermione and you were right about bringing Hedwig. I don't think she would like this heat. I can barely stand it as it is. I'll have to borrow one of their owls or whatever they use here to send this letter._

_I start work Monday and Catherine warned me to enjoy my last day of freedom because I'd be working for her in the morning. Sometimes her jokes scare me. I hope it was a joke. I'm on a mandatory, paid vacation. They can't put me to really, really hard work, can they? You can stop laughing now Ron._

_I'll write again when I have something more interesting to say than this. Oh, and tell George and Fred they're wrong. They aren't the same. Fred and George will understand what I mean._

He lowered his quill to sign his name but stopped. He should probably sign his false name. He was no one special here, but something nagging at his brain made him sign James. He stopped and looked at his signature. It felt extremely odd to use his father's name. He wondered why they had chosen to give him it. He shook his head as he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

He sealed the letter and stood up. He cautiously and slowly walked out of his room and down the hall in case Jo and Catherine were still arguing. He procrastinated as long as possible to postpone the moment when he would have to face Catherine in an extremely bad mood. He noticed the pictures on the wall and stopped to look at them.

Some of the photographs were wizard pictures. A family portrait of Jo, Catherine, and their parents hung at his eye level. Their father had their brown hair flecked with gray and he also shared their blue eyes. He stood straight with a big goofy grin on his face. He looked as if he had never really grown up because every once in awhile he put bunny ears behind his wife's head. She scowled at him occasionally, but she had a playful sparkle in her eye much like Catherine's mischievous manner.

_Catherine must have picked up her mischievous-ness from her mother, _Harry thought.

Their mother had wavy hair too but it was blond. Her skin was very tan but also very freckled. She had a wide smile that lit up her face and she hit her husband every once in awhile and laughed. Jo and Catherine stood side by side. They looked over at each other and then looked at their parents and sniggered. They seemed to have a secret understanding they did not wish to explain to the world.

He saw a few pictures of younger versions of Catherine and Jo. Almost all of them were at the beach but one showed the two little girls sitting at the table as they swung their feet from the chairs. Another pictured them in bathing suits splashing around at a crowded pool, and there were a couple of pictures of them at the beach waving frantically at him. In one beach scene, Jo and Catherine had an arm around each other and were laughing. The photograph reminded him of the painting in his room.

Muggle pictures hung amongst the moving ones. Most of them were black and white, and many depicted the beach dunes and grasses or the waves caught in a spectacular crash. In a few, Jo or Catherine posed serenely on the beach as they looked away from the camera. In most of these pictures, they were smiling at the ocean or something far off in the distance.

In one particular picture in the corner, Jo sat staring at the setting sun amongst a field of flowers. However, she was not smiling. She sat in a simple sundress among the happy flowers looking at the beautiful sun with a book held loosely in her hand on the ground, but her face looked empty and a single tear rolled down her cheek. The photographer must have caught Jo unaware of her surroundings (a mean feat) because it was the only sad picture in the bunch. Nevertheless, it was the best picture.

Harry finished looking at the pictures and moved down the hall to the den where Catherine and Jo were bending down opposite each other pouring over the sea of papers surrounding them on the floor. He knocked lightly on the wall after neither of them noticed him. They both looked up at the same time and almost knocked heads.

"Yes, James? Need somethin'?" said Catherine recovering first.

He held up his sealed letter, "Can I borrow an owl? I have a letter to send."

Catherine look puzzled for a moment but recovered, "Oh, we don't use owls. Not many around here. So we use herons but Bob is on a job right now so you'll have to use Jo's."

Harry frowned, "Can he make it across the Atlantic?"

Jo looked incredulously at him, "_She's_ no ordinary heron."

She stood up and walked into the kitchen to open the back down. She whistled a little tune Harry did not recognize, and a tall, blue heron walked gracefully into the house. Harry stared amazed. He had never seen one before up close and the size of the bird surprised him.

"James this is Roxy. Roxy this is James," the bird tilted her head as Jo pointed at him and she gazed intently at him.

He felt as if the bird looked straight through him like Dumblesdore's eyes. Catherine laughed at him as he gingerly tied his letter to the long leg of the bird and stood up slowly. Roxy stared at him for a minute before she turned around and exited the house. Harry watched through the window as the bird spread its large wings and leapt into the air.

Catherine smiled evilly at him and sarcastically said, "I think she likes you."

Jo laughed and pushed Catherine roughly, "She does that to everyone when she first meets them. She'll get used to you eventually," Jo started to gather the papers into stacks.

Catherine cackled silently behind Jo's back and whispered to Harry, "But, she might not. She's an annoyingly lofty bird. Don't insult her. She'll try to poke your eye out and I should know," she pointed to a small white scar on her arm, "nasty beak on that bird."

Harry laughed sheepishly, "I know a hippogriff like Roxy."

"Well," said Jo as she walked up to them with a stack of teetering papers in her arms, "I'm starved so I'll put these away and start dinner. Could you two set the table?"

They both nodded and watched Jo exit the room slowly under the weight of the paper.

"They throw all that work on one person?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, but only on Jo-Jo," Catherine sighed and scratched an itch on her back, "she doesn't complain so they throw whatever they feel like on her. I've tried to reason with her but she always says 'someone's got to do it,'" she shrugged, "Well, let's go get that table set. _I am_ _hungry!"_

* * *

Catherine fixed Harry with a beady eye, "So," she said over the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen as they set the table in the dining room, "Did you guys have fun while I was frantically worrying about you?"

Harry looked guiltily at his naked ring finger as he passed her a plate, "Err...no. It was terrible."

She laughed, "You don't have to lie. I'm only messing with you. But seriously, did you have fun? The ice cream is good isn't it?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, "Yeah, it was excellent. We watched some kids at the beach for a bit on the walk back to the condo. They were throwing sand at each other."

Catherine laughed again, "Little kids have it made. Sure school can be a pain sometimes but those two and a half months off during summer spent at the beach were some of the best times of my childhood."

Harry nodded but did not have time to respond because Jo walked in at just that moment carrying a large pan.

"I hope you like chicken because there's what we're having," Jessica said jovially. They had much more than chicken. The table was hidden beneath large platters of mashed potatoes, a basket of rolls, and a small salad. After they finished eating, Harry helped wash the dishes and lumbered off to bed.

"Better get lots of sleep tonight _Jamesie!_ Tomorrow you gotta go to work for me!" Catherine yelled at him down the hall as they each walked to their separate rooms.

Jo walked past him and rolled her eyes at her sister, "She loves rubbing it in my face that she's technically our superior. Like that matters anyway." She slid her hand lightly across on his back, as if she did not think she could hug him after only knowing him for a day, as she passed and said good night.

Harry smiled and met her eyes, "G'night Joey. See you in the morning." She swatted him playfully and smiled, which was what he was after in the first place.

"You can't call me that yet. I've only known you for a day," she smirked, "I'm not even sure if I like you yet. You insulted my bird." She turned on her heel laughing silently at his taken aback expression.

_Okay, _Harry thought, _maybe Fred and George had a point. Women are bonkers period._

* * *

A/N

whhoo! longest chapter yet. yeah I know. I say that everytime but it is! chapter 2 is longer than chapter 1. chapter 3 is longer than chapter 2. chapter 4 is longer than chapter 3. and so on and so forth (hopefully)

anyway, until next time. READ AND REVIEW PLEASE! but no flames.


	5. The FBI

A/N

A little bit shorter than the last chapter but I just can't write anymore. I like this chapter. It's funny.

lol

* * *

The Day Harry Potter Disappeared

Chapter Five:

The FBI

_As Harry impatiently waited at the altar, he folded his arms and started to tap his foot noiselessly. Ron waited next to him and he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. _

_"Don't worry, mate. Everything's gonna go fine," Ron whispered so only he could hear. Harry did not make a sound but he did stopped tapping his foot._

_"She's gorgeous. They did a brilliant job on her."_

_"Oh, so now you're ogling her. She's mine, you know." Harry whispered back._

_"Calm down, she just looks diff--"_

_"So you're saying you don't ogle her when she's her normal gorgeous?" Harry's voice grew louder as he heatedly asked the question. He could feel his temper rising. Several people in the front row muttered and scowled at the pair of them. The priest even raised an eye at Harry. He and Ron smiled sheepishly at them all before turning to face the aisle, again._

_**Brilliant, **Harry thought to himself, **We've gone and caused a scene. She'll kill me if she finds out.**_

_Ron looked abashed, "Look, mate. I really don't want to answer that question," he hurriedly said under his breath, "because either way you'll want to **bash my head in**." _

_Harry started to interrupt but Ron gave him a look, "Listen. If I say 'no I don't ogle her when she's her normal gorgeous,' you'll be indignant and angry because that means I don't think she's pretty. So, you'll **pound me flat**. If I say 'Yes! I regularly ogle her for hours!' you'll go stark raving mad and **pummel my face into a pulp**." Harry stared at his feet. He was being stupid. Even after his make-out session with Hermione in sixth year, Ron had not overreacted--much._

_He smiled and whispered to Ron, "Yeah, I suppose I'd do more than just **deck you one in the nose**."_

_Ron smiled too, "You see! Lose-lose situation for the both of us, mate. Either way, you'll be angry and I'll be **mashed into the ground**. Besides, we wouldn't be able to do it now. If we ruin today she'll kill us!"_

_"Right. Sorry..."_

_Ron waved his hand brushing aside the apology, "It had to happen eventually..."_

_"What?" stammered Harry, perplexed._

_Ron smiled and snickered, "That you'd fall in love, idiot!" _

_However, Harry lost his chance to retaliate against Ron for his amusement at his lack of romance as the doors opened and a familiar march began to play. A beautiful figure dressed in a white gown and bathed in light entered the aisle. Harry smiled as he watched the figure slowly walk towards him, but his expression soon turned into a grimace. The light surrounding her blinded him. Harry raised his hand to shield his eyes and he felt himself slipping away._

_"NO--"

* * *

_

Harry Potter awoke with a familiar jolt. The blinding light in his dream immediately explained itself. Someone had thrown his curtains open to let the sunlight in.

"It's too early for it to be this bright," he blinked several times as his eyes adjusted and he stretched. Before he had any time to examine his newest dream, a noise from the doorway made him turn round.

Catherine stood in the doorway as she hitched a wide smile on her face, "I told you to savor your last moments of freedom." She was fully awake and fully dress. If sandals, jeans, and a T-shirt qualified as dressed for work.

"A little under-dressed, aren't you?"

She shook her head, "No. It's casual Friday everyday unless we're being inspected. That's _usually_ on Monday but lucky for you it isn't _this_ Monday." He stretched and yawned in an unconcerned way, which annoyed her.

"Anyway," she continued as her eye began to twitch, "it's six o'clock. We're leaving in forty-five minutes so I hope you can get ready in time." She walked down the hall merrily singing _One way or another, I'm gonna find ya, I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya..._

Harry plopped back onto the bed and covered his face with his hand. Catherine had seemed to be in a particular mood. He had done something to annoy her but he could not figure out what he had done.

"I hope Cat didn't awaken you too rudely." Jo now stood in his doorway and her appearance was completely different. She stood barefoot in the doorway with her hair up in a messy bun. She wore a fuzzy robe that covered a pair of plaid pajama pant bottoms and a tank top, and she held a toothbrush in her hand.

"I thought this was too early for you," said Harry.

"It is. Cat told you I'm not the morning person." Jo stuck her toothbrush in her mouth and ambled down the hall toward the bathroom.

"After the first five minutes of this morning, I wouldn't believe either of them were," he mumbled to himself.

Harry breathed deeply and stared up at the ceiling. He had been dreaming of his wedding day. Ron had been there. He felt a twinge of homesickness as he thought of Ron and Hermione.

_If everything goes well, _he though, _I'll have to bring them here. Maybe by then I'll stop having these crazy dreams._

The dreams certainly were peculiar and his latest dream made as much sense as the others did, but they all had a common element: the faceless woman. She haunted his dreams like a forgotten memory. He knew who she was in the dream but he could not put a name or face to her.

In the first dream, she was his dying love. In the second dream, she was his loving wife. In this third dream, she was his beautiful bride. All these particular events had to occur in the future, but was his future set in stone?

But how could it be? In the first dream, she dies and in the next she is pregnant. She must not die. The first dream must be wrong. But if the first dream was just a dream, then the others would have to be just dreams too. If they were just dreams then why did he wonder endlessly about them? They had to be real. And if they were real then how could the woman die?

_Maybe there are two women. Or maybe... _Harry groaned, _I'm over thinking these dreams. They're just dreams...that plague me day and night._

The dreams had to be his future. He supposed the woman had no face because her future was not set in stone. The one who he would cry over, marry, and have children with had not come into his life yet.

He wondered if he would ever be able to choose his destiny. His future always seemed to be decided for him before he knew it. Since he was born, prophecies had been made and had come true.

_But these are not prophecies, _he thought hopelessly, _these are just dreams..._

"Still in bed I see," Jo had come back. She now wore sandals, a skirt, and tank top. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail but a few strands had escaped her hair tie.

Harry sat up, "Does no one dress professionally here?"

She smirked and ignored his questions, "Cat will be ready to leave in about twenty minutes and since she's showing you around at work I suggest you get ready," Jo walked away. Harry groaned (yet again). He lay in his bed for another five minutes before he heard Catherine yell from some distant corner of the condo, "Time difference or not you have to be ready in ten minutes!" Harry signed and opened his eyes. Getting up in the morning was too complicated.

* * *

"And this is Miss Sara Huckleberry," said Catherine as Harry shook hands with the woman. But he barely noticed her because he had already been introduced to twenty other "Sara Huckleberry's" in the last thirty minutes. Each person Catherine had introduced him to seemed to be a friend of Catherine's rather than a subordinate. She had smiled and inquired about the kids or a pet or intimate friend

After he had managed to throw some clothes on that morning, Catherine had dragged him out of the house and back into her muggle car. She had insisted on driving since he had not known where "the bureau" was located. (She fondly called it the bureau she said, "The American muggles have something or other called the FBI which stands for the Fettuccini Bureau In company." Jo sniggered, "It's the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Cat, I've told you a million times." "You know I never paid any attention in muggle culture class! Anyway, so since they have an FBI I thought we needed to have an FBI so I nicknamed the office the bureau and everybody thought it was a grand idea." Jo rolled her eyes.) To Harry's surprise the bureau was not an organization like the ministry of magic. Each division of the government had its own building complex and each division had a branch in each state with the main offices in Washington D.C.

"It's so each branch doesn't gain too much power over any other branch," Catherine rambled on, "If they were all in the same building one division would be bigger than another and think they had more power than the others. So, to be equal they just give each division its own building complex. At least, that's what Jo says. All about being equal apparently but I never paid much attention in history either because the magic community was all behind the scenes in the formation of the country." So Harry had suffered another car ride of Catherine's nonstop narration. At any other time he would have been very interested in learning about the area (it was an auror's job to know his surroundings) but not when he had just woken up without any coffee.

After getting the grand tour of the place (as Catherine phrased it), and shaking hands with a number of people he would not remember later, Catherine finally led him to her office presumably to give Harry his assignment. At least, that is what Harry hoped. Her office was in the back corner of the building and the nameplate on the door hung on by one screw.

"Why don't you fix that?" said Harry as they faced the door.

"Because it's an inside joke. Everyone likes to think I've got a screw loose. But that's why I'm the best in the business!" the last part she yelled to the hallway in general and Harry heard several people laugh at their desks, "Everyone's a big happy family." She opened the door and they walked into her office.

She had a corner office with two large windows. The shades were flung wide open so the room was lit by natural light. The room was spotless; quite the opposite of what Harry expected. She had a little plant on her desk along with a lamp and a neat stack of papers. On a table along the wall, a magical fax machine and scanner hummed and whirled.

She sat down behind the desk and gestured for Harry to sit in one of the chairs opposite her desk. She rifled through the papers on her desk, read a few, and scribbled her signature on a couple. She stood and placed the sheets into the fax and the papers vanished. Catherine looked up and saw him watching her.

"Magical faxes are much cleaner than birds," said Catherine as she sat down at her desk and twiddled her thumbs. After five seconds she sat up in her chair and sighed, "Jo's late. Oh well, I'll start telling you anyway." Harry sat straight up in his chair and focused on Catherine. Maybe he was finally getting some information about what this was all about...

"Well, James..." she trailed off as Jo walked in and slammed the door.

"Bob just got the reports on the Gompers Hotel finished," she threw a folder onto her desk, "Have you explained the situation yet?"

Catherine gave Jo an incredulous look, "I was just about to when you barged in here." Jo shrugged and sat down in the chair next to Harry's.

Catherine turned back to him, "As I was saying. James, you actually came just in time. We're just about to close in on a target we've been tracking until a couple months ago when he disappeared off our radar."

"Err...what's radar?" Harry interjected.

"It's a muggle expression," Jo responded as she looked through the papers on Catherine's desk.

"Anyway, he disappeared, vanished, we can't find a trace of him. He's foreign but has lived over here for a couple of years and knows the territory. And the reason you're our lucky charm is we want you to contact him and buddy up to him. Pretend to be in the market and play nice until we can work out how to catch him. He's very slippery but we figure he'll trust you more readily because you're foreign too."

Harry just stared at her. He had not expected this at all. He had expected a desk job or filing job or being the coffee boy.

"Well, James," said Jo not looking up from her reading, "Feel up to it?"

"I...err...I...why?"

"We made a deal with your Brit bureau. An exchange of resources: we gave them some information on one of their targets and they lent us you for a bit."

"Right. I wasn't expecting this at all. I--"

Catherine laughed, "We know. We wanted to keep you in the dark in case anything went wrong. Our intell says he's got surveillance on key agents on this case but we aren't sure who yet," she turned to Jo, "You need to get Jason on that." Jo nodded but did not look up.

"So, you're going to be told as little as possible anyway for obvious reasons," she sat back and looked at him intently, "So, are you willing to do it?" Jo stopped reading the reports and waited for his response.

He glanced at both of them before answering, "Yeah...yeah. Sounds like fun." Both of their faces split into identical grins.

"Awesome!" Catherine said as she scribbled a note on a paper and threw it onto the fax. Harry watched it vanish instantly.

"I told you he'd do it," Jo smirked and went back to her papers.

"So," said Catherine, "You'll make contact tomorrow. I just send a note to Mark telling him to get his butt over here so he can prep you for the meeting tomorrow. You have no idea how good this is for us. Saves us a hell of a lot of work."

She stood up and reached her hand over the desk, "Welcome to the team." Harry grinned and shook it. Five minutes later Mark poked his head in the door.

"Hey Mark!" Catherine looked up from the report she was writing, "This is our man, James Harrison."

Mark shook his hand, "Glad to meet you. You must be crazy to be staying with these two ladies. I'll have to take you out for a drink one night."

Harry smiled, "Sounds brilliant. So where do we start?"

"First we get you to the fitting room so we can get you some gear; listening devices and homing beacons," he led Harry down the hall.

As Jo closed the door, they hear Mark laughing at Harry's confusion and Catherine sighed and slumped down in her desk.

"I didn't realize how much work this would be--keeping the act up."

"You're doing fine. He doesn't suspect a thing."

"Well," Catherine leaned back in her chair, "we can't count on it going perfectly smooth but with our man out there it'll make things easier."

Jo nodded, "As long as the meeting goes well his trust will be in our hands.

Catherine sighed and smiled, "And then we'll finally be able to go to our superiors and get some recognition for our efforts."

"We just gotta watch out and make sure we don't slip up around him. That would wreck all our efforts..."

* * *

For the rest of the day Mark showed Harry the ropes. They fitted him with a special vest that deflected minor curses and jinxes, and Mark showed Harry how the earpieces worked.

He briefed Harry on the character he was to play. Mark demonstrated how to act, talk, and even walk. A short little witch, with a long, gray braid down her back named Zora, took measurements for a whole new wardrobe.

After grabbing a quick lunch in the cafeteria, Mark took Harry to the combat room to see how his defense skills measured up. It was a large, white room, which had a two-story ceiling. The floor was enchanted to become pillow soft if one should fall into it. In the center of the room two-stories up, a window looked down on the floor. After he had sparred with Mark for a little bit, he noticed a figure watching them.

"What's that?" he gestured up at the window when they took a break for water.

Mark glanced up at the window, "That's the observation deck."

"Who do you suppose is up there?"

"Oh, it's probably just Cat or Jo."

"They're..."

"...close. I know," Mark finished his sentence, "Even though Cat is Jo's superior, everyone gives them equal respect and an order from Jo is like an order from Cat."

"Then why is Jo..."

"She's a bit of a recluse, I'm sure you noticed, and the big men like loud outgoing people to lead our department. Jo doesn't care. The job is her life."

"Right..." mumbled Harry.

"Ready to go, again?" said Mark as he stood up.

"Yeah."

* * *

After a quick dinner, Harry showered and went to his room. The exhausting day drained him of his energy. He threw on some shorts and was asleep before he hit the pillow. The mirror opposite the bed sniggered.

* * *

A/N

I love the part where he's trying to figure out his dreams and I had tons of fun thinking up different ways to say Harry would beat up Ron. The plot is thickening. Something is happening...there's an actual plot! All should rejoice! lol make sure to REVIEW after you READ!


	6. One OP Just Isn't Enough

Ch. 6 PG 6

A/N

Yay! For long chapters! And updating! Yay!

Anyway, I'm really tired so I'm going to bed. I might go back the edit the last page I added to this later but not tonight. So if you find stupid typos or horrible sentence structure toward the end that's because I haven't gone back over it yet but I feel like posting this now.

Enjoy.

The Day Harry Potter Disappeared

Chapter Six:

One OP Just Isn't Enough

_"I don't know what to do."_

Harry's eyes flew open and he stared at the dark ceiling. The clock on his bedside table read 2 AM. He groaned as he turned over and tried to drift back to sleep but the dream he tried to ignore sent his mind reeling. Harry could only remember the last bit: I don't know what to do. Did that reflect upon his own sense of self-doubt about what he had taken on or was it something else entirely? He turned over again as he tried to find a comfortable position but to no avail. He stared out the sliding glass door at the starry sky and saw a blurry light shoot across it.

_Must be a shooting star,_ he thought sleepily.

As he watched it, the light became brighter and bigger as it careened straight for the house. Harry hurriedly jammed his glasses onto his face, but the light had already flown over his window before he could get a proper look at it. He jumped out of bed grabbing his wand as he raced out the door not bothering to grab a shirt.

_The light,_ he thought quickly, _looked as if...it were headed toward the...kitchen!_

He raced down the hall as quickly as he could without knocking into anything (well, _many_ thing) and he did manage to almost crash into the wall as he rounded the corner into the kitchen. He rushed in to find Jo and Catherine fully dressed looking over a dog they had just let in through the back door. Mugs of coffee sat on the table. They had obviously been waiting up for something. Why had they not asked him to wait up with them? Why were they not telling him what was going on? He gave an involuntary shiver that brought his attention back to earth. He glanced down at his clothes, or lack of clothes. He stood barefoot on the cool kitchen tile in his shorts and thought he should have at least remembered to grab a T-shirt.

Jo jumped when she noticed Harry standing there, "Oh! James! Kirby didn't wake you up, did he?"

"Err, no. I was up. What's happened? Did you see the light? It looked like it was heading straight for us!" he stopped short, "Who's Kirby?"

Catherine gestured to the dog, which Harry noticed was wet and cover in mud.

"But it hasn't rained..." Harry said.

"Kirby's just come in from a mission," Catherine said as she used a towel to clean off the mud, "You could have at least jumped into the ocean to get rid of all the mud!"

A_nd have my fur sticky with salt until tomorrow when you only might have time to give me a bath? I think not! _Harry heard in his head.

Harry started and turned to stare more closely at the dog, "Did he just talk?" Harry had come across magical creatures before, but none that could talk.

"Telepathically," Jo explained, "Kirby has, ehh, many gifts."

"So...he was the ball of light," Harry ventured.

_He's not as stupid as he looks! There's a surprising development, _Kirby barked as Harry heard the words in his head.

"Easy, Kirb, give him a break. It's two o'clock in the morning. We all should go to bed," Catherine said, "James must be cold, too." She snickered as she pointed at his boxers and Jo smiled behind her hand as he sheepishly looked down at himself again.

Catherine ambled out after she finished cleaning off the dog ("Salt is better than mud on the rug!"), obviously the most tired, "I'll hear your report in the morning," she shot over her shoulder to Kirby. He followed after receiving a scratch behind the ears from Jo.

After his tail disappeared, Harry turned to Jo, "That mutt was on a mission?"

_I heard that, you lamer! _Harry heard faintly in his head.

Jo smiled ruefully, "He was searching for your contact-"

"I thought I was going to get close to the head guy?" Harry interjected.

"You have to get close to his number one man first and if I know Kirby, he's found our man. We'll be one step closer to napping that Brit."

Harry nodded not really comprehending what she said, "Why didn't you tell me you had a dog?"

Jo shrugged, "In all the excitement we forgot. You better get to bed, James; tomorrow's another hard day. Plus," she smiled, "you've got goosebumps everywhere."

The next few days went by in a raging blur for Harry. Everyday Catherine first roused him by yelling across the house before she let the dog jump all over his bed. It was not the ideal way to wake up every morning, but Catherine informed him that she would continue until he woke up earlier.

Kirby did not _talk_ much with him but Harry was sure he did with the others. He often saw them pause at their task when Kirby walked into the room and answer a silent question or laugh as if he had said something funny. He did not seem to like Harry very much and he did not fancy Kirby much either. But he soon grew accustom to Kirby's presence, despite first impressions.

He often stayed up late going over the information for his task, and Kirby ambled in to sit at his feet (or on top of them) and Harry would occasionally, unconsciously bend over and scratch Kirby behind the ears. He thought the mutt must be warming up to him and sat with Harry to keep him company. However, from what Harry observed about his gruff demeanor, Kirby would never admit this aloud. When Harry questioned him why, Kirby replied that he thought it was a good idea to keep an eye on Harry because he needed to watch out for the girls. Harry could not get Kirby to explain further. He secretly suspected Catherine or Jo had told Kirby to watch him. He could not fathom why they would need to watch him. As far as they knew he was not in anymore danger than they were. He supposed (even though they denied it every time he brought it up) the mark knew, through his own spies, that Harry was here. And even Harry was not dim enough not to realize the significance of the Bureau bringing in outside help; famous or not.

But in spite of his suspicions, Harry slowly began to enjoy the mutt's company. He acted like a regular dog most of the time despite his superior intelligence, which made him more bearable. He only had to ignore the sarcastic remarks Kirby made every once in awhile. Catherine and Jo only laughed at them. He knew Kirby did not mean anything by it but he was good at pushing Harry's buttons. Jo often told him that it looked like steam was about to come out his ears. He almost told her that steam had come out of his ears before when he drank pepper-up potion after the second task of the Tri-Wizard. But that would have brought up some questions he could not answer. He enjoyed his guise too much to let a foolish slip take it all away from him.

All in all, Harry did not have many relaxing days after that first day. Jo and Catherine were satisfied in his ability to take care of himself with or without his wand but they hammered him about his ability to act out his part. They were constantly making him act out scenarios: what to do if his mark said this; what to do if he found himself in a sticky spot; and even what to do if he was offered a drink or seat.

"You have to be careful around these thugs," Catherine heatedly reminded him after a particularly bad practice session.

"What do they deal in, anyway?" Harry demanded as he clinched his teeth in frustration with Catherine and himself.

Catherine shrugged and answered nonchalantly, "Arms, drugs, whatever they can get their hands on."

"Then why are they so important?" grunted Harry as he clenched his hands too, "They sound like your run-of-the-mill thugs to me."

Catherine froze up and looked ready to explode before she said in a surprisingly clam and controlled voice, "These men are notorious. That's all you get to know and frankly, that's all you should need to know to do the job. I'm not going to let your laziness mess up something Jo and I have been working on since before Voldemorte died!" She stalked away leaving Harry standing there like an idiot; a very confused idiot _as usual._

A week after his arrival, Roxy returned with letters from Ron and Hermione. Jo found him brooding about Sirius in his room. She looked around the room and glanced in her mirror. She raised an eyebrow in its direction and the mirror giggled in response.

"I hope this letter has good news," she said as she gave it to him before leaving to give him some privacy, "You don't look happy-go-lucky like you did when you arrived."

Harry shrugged and muttered something about being fine just tired.

Jo raised her eyebrow at him and retorted, "Right."

As she turned to go a thought struck Harry, "So this whole operation is really important to Catherine, right? She won't tell me anything and she's really touchy on the subject."

Jo and the mirror sighed exasperatedly, "Of course! It's important to the both of us. Five years is a long time for relatively new Ops to work on a huge case. It's our first and only case so far. Leadership was thrust on Cat after the boss ate it four years ago. What were we to do? Fresh out of training we were newbees at the job. So it became out life. The boss man didn't even leave plans as to how to get you over here."

"Why would you have needed me four years ago? I was still in school," Harry asked suspiciously.

"I meant get you as in the Brit Bureau over here to help," Jo recovered quickly, "and they've been a big help too. They're even sending us another over tomorrow."

Harry was distracted from his perplexity as to why they would need outside help so early in a case from her last statement and bursts out indignantly, "Wh-what? Someone else? Why? I thought all you needed was me..."

Jo smiled wryly, "All help is welcomed here, buddy, no matter how bad or good it is," Harry stared angrily at his right foot but did not say anything. Seeming satisfied she had put him in his place, Jo left. And Harry, feeling more confused and taken for granted than ever, turned to his letters grumpily.

Predictably, they considerably lightened his mood. Harry found that any word from his friends made him unbelievably happy. Not that he was not having a good time with his Yank mates (even with their tight-lipped attitude), but it was comforting to hear about the antics of his friends back home.

Apparently, Ron had done something to infuriate Hermione but he could not figure out what he had done. He complained about the mad ways of women throughout most of his letter before openly wondering whether he could join Harry to get away from Hermione and his studies.

_...The loads of work they're assigning are almost driving me as mad as she is! You were lucky to get out of it mate..._

Harry knew this attitude (toward Hermione) would not last. Ron was crazy about Hermione. Harry chuckled as he set Ron's letter aside and picked up Hermione's letter.

_Dear James,_

_How are you? You sounded like you are doing well in your letter. _

_As Ron has doubtlessly told you, we had a bit of a row. We started arguing about how he spends too much time away from his studies. He became incredibly juvenile about it and we've been ignoring each other since. Except he doesn't have **you** to rave to so he's been feeling extra put out about it. I think he's been punished enough by now so I'm going to let him apologize tomorrow. _

(Harry snorted. Hermione certainly understood Ron better than he understood her.)

_While we were studying up on concealment charms for Methods of Disguise, I found a handy charm to conceal your scar. You have to cast it daily but it'll be nice to hide it during the day, won't it?_

(The incantation followed and he read it excitedly. Harry looked into the mirror and waved his wand toward his forehead. His scar slowly faded until it disappeared into his skin. He smiled broadly. _Hermione, I love you._ He continued to read the remainder of her letter.)

_Hope you have a wonderful time. We miss you. Hermione_

_P.S._

_If there's anything interesting in their library maybe you could persuade your partners to let me borrow it._

Harry leaned back in his chair placing the letter on top of Ron's letter and sighed satisfyingly. He glanced into the mirror again to stare at the spot where his scar had been and smiled. Now he was even less extraordinary from the next man. As he sat smiling and staring at himself, the mirror sighed femininely.

"I liked you better with the scar."

Harry stared incredulously at his reflection for a moment then burst out laughing.

Harry angrily glared at the passing palm trees as he sped along in Catherine's little car. Catherine forgot to mention--one small detail ("I'm not your mother. You're supposed to figure out when you have to do your job.")--the time of the arrival of the OP. So, Harry had found himself walking sleepily into the kitchen only to be told he had better hurry up and throw some clothes on because he was supposed to be at the bus port five minutes ago.

She had insisted on him picking up the new OP like she had collected him: muggle style. Her order (no matter what she claimed it was an order and not a suggestion) forced him to be even later. Luckily, part of his Auror training required him to learn how to drive a car, so at least the driving part was not the problem. He glared at the steering wheel as he thought about how Catherine never to give him a break.

No special treatment she said. Treated him like she treated everyone else she said. And whenever Jo was in the room, she nodded her head in agreement. Harry still had a hard time believing her.

Harry drifted out of his grumbling as he parked in the lot and ripped the keys out of it ignition. He jogged up to the main building now twenty minutes late as he pushed through the door. He glared frustratingly around the main lobby searching for the new OP.

_What's the use?_ he thought to himself as small children, who wanted to go to Disney World, passed with their parents, _I don't even bloody know what this new person looks like._ Another small detail Catherine felt he should have been able to find out for himself without her "babying him" as she put it. ("Honestly! How did you manage to pass your exams at school? Copy one of your girl friend's notes?" Harry did not retort because that is exactly how he passed half of his exams at Hogwarts. Hermione's notes had saved his life.) She had assured him he would know exactly who the OP was when he saw them. ("Can't you bloody tell me if it's a man or woman?" Catherine had laughed, "And ruin the surprise? I think not!")

Harry scanned the room as the passengers made their way through customs and the baggage claim. Even with he Auror training, he did not see anyone vaguely familiar.

_Wait.._._no...it couldn't be, _Harry thought he saw a flash of fiery red hair. It was still very f_amiliar,_ fiery red hair even though he had not seen it in a good year. The mirage turned and it was..._Ginny?_

He stared as she walked toward him, "H-hi. I'm James Harrison. One of your new partners."

She smirked as she set her bags down, "Don't look so surprised to see me! You knew I was coming, _James. _I'm Ginny Weasley._"_

Harry stared down at her, _She knows._

"You hoo?" she waved her hand in front of his face, "Anybody home?"

Harry snapped out of his daze, "Err--hi...Ginny--I mean, Miss Wealsey," she gave him another funny look and before she could say anything he cut in, "We better get going. Catherine's rule: first day, we have to get to the house muggle style so it takes longer than magic." He picked up her bags and led the way to the car.

After they had stowed all her luggage in the trunk and gotten out onto the road Ginny looked over at Harry, "I know you're supposed to be uncover but honestly, Harry, what bloody hell have you done to yourself?"

"Wh-why are you calling me, Harry?" he stammered.

He thought indignantly, _she was one to talk about changing appearances._ The freckly, quiet friend's little sister she used to be seemed long gone. Her freckles seemed a little faded and she was wearing a bit of make-up, mascara or something. Her hair was long with long layers that made her hair slightly curly. She had changed from the frightened little girl he had rescued from the chamber of secrets into a striking young woman.

"Well, _James,"_ Harry tuned back to what she was saying, "it's obvious to someone like me who has watched you since she was eleven to know it's you, Harry." She rolled her eyes at his surprise.

"Why are you here?"

"You didn't think I could take being around RonandHermione by myself, did you?"

"Err..."

She laughed, "Don't worry about answering that. Why didn't anyone tell me it was so bloody hot here?"

Harry shrugged as he watched the road pass by, "Everyone fails to mention that fact."

They lapsed into silence as Ginny stared around at the palm trees and the lack of hills. Harry wondered what she really was doing here. Why would they send her? She was even a bigger novice than he, Hermione, and Ron were. Why would they send her over Ron or Hermione?

"Flat place, this is and bright too," she said as she looked around and shaded her eyes, "Makes you wish for the dreary streets of London!" she turned toward him as she chuckled and her smiled faltered at the look on his face, "What's wrong with you Potter? You're acting like we're back in first and second year again--except you're the shy one."

Harry shrugged and grunted noncommittally, "Tired. Just woke up." Neither of them said a word as they arrived at the sisters' condo and Harry led the way into the house.

Catherine smirked widely when she saw the look on his face as he and Ginny walked through the door, "Got there in time I see, Harrison. Met Ginny, too." Jo did not look up from bending over her mug of hot tea. A grunt emanated from her disheveled head.

"You'll have to forgive Jo, she's just not a morning person," Catherine snickered again as Jo grumbled something incoherent.

Harry stalked off out of the kitchen saying over his shoulder that he would leave the explaining to Catherine. She and Ginny exchanged looks.

Jo even looked up from her steaming mug, "What's got his undies in a knot?"

A/N

Keep in mind this story is completely separate from the 6th book since I started writing it before the book was published. And now there's a love trapezoid! Or I guess it could be a love square but trapezoid sounds so much cooler! lol

I know everyone has lots of questions and I'm sure most of them will be answered in time but I can't answer them now! That'd ruin the story. I'm actually glad no one can figure quite what's going on because that means my story line isn't as transparent as I thought it might be! Lol

Hopefully, the story will only get clearer but I make no promises!

LATER NOTE...

Some people have been commenting on the suspense and lack of speed in updating and so on. Quite frankly, I'm tired of people bothering me about it. That's borderline flaming. I haven't really gotten too angry at any one comment because they include good things too. So that saved everyone from my fiery Irish temper. And everyone has been very courteous, almost careful, about his or her criticism. None of it pertains to the story except the bit about being confused and held in suspense. Well, you're going to have to deal with that because it's my story. Maybe I'll switch the section to suspense and get everyone off my back since they won't be able to say anything. So anyway, I'd appreciate if you'd STOP. Or else I will get fired up and either quit writing or blow up at someone. This is how my temper has been going for the past couple months. I don't mind if you say something like UPDATE! Or UPDATED NOW! Or WRITE MORE NOW! But don't tell me maybe you should write longer chapters or update more or at least tell us what's going on because I don't have to. It will unfold as it unfolds


	7. Adolescent Agonizing

A/N

yay for posting! I've been trying to get this chapter out for the past 2 weeks and finally got it finished! Yay! I'm tired now so I don't feel like saying much. On with the story!

* * *

The Day Harry Potter Disappeared

Chapter Seven:

Adolescent Agonizing

They could have told him. Someone. Anyone. Ron or Hermione could have hinted it in their letters that Ginny was coming. They would have known that she was coming before they sent the letters. How could they have not known? They knew he was going. He suspected they knew about his _assignment_. They knew everything! Why did they not tell him about all this funny business? _Ginny?_ How could she be there? She should be in school. WHY? Why send her? Ginny? **_Ginny?_**

He shook his head as he paced around and around his room. Hours passed as he tramped in his room. The women had realized he needed to fume by himself, or maybe they were laughing at him for acting so childishly. But why _Ginny?_

She was not even a fully qualified witch. She should be preparing for her N.E.W.T.s! Not gallivanting off to America playing secret agent! How did she persuade her brothers to let her come? Mrs. Weasley surely must have raised objections about leaving Hogwarts early, but maybe there was an accelerated program Harry did not know about. But Ginny?

The dark arts seemed to always find her, why would they risk sending her into danger? The operation did not involve her. She did not have connections in America, though she was friendly enough with the Yanks. Why was he, _Harry_, left out of the loop? He...he was not anyone here.

Harry laughed aloud. For a moment, he missed the attention he used to regularly receive. He laughed harder when he realized he had forgotten the bliss he felt every morning because no one knew his name. What was he thinking? Ginny. That was what he was thinking.

Ginny, the dark arts magnet, was unprotected here. Why involve someone so vulnerable? Wait. He stopped in his tracks and looked at himself in the mirror. His brow furrowed as he scrutinized his red face and messy hair. He raised his hand to touch where his scar lay hidden. He needed to buy a dozen roses next time he saw Hermione for finding that spell. He took great pleasure casting it every morning.

"You aren't helping your pores by touching your face all the time," the mirror scolded. Harry made a face and ignored the mirrors comment. Mirrors always scolded him about his appearance, but what did that matter? He had more important things on his mind.

They...they would not stake the entire operation on Ginny's knack for attracting everything evil in the area, would they? It was too far fetched, and she was not known as a threat, therefore, she was not a target, but maybe if they made her go into a shady place where criminals would be attracted to prey on her...but _Ginny?_

Why _Ginny?_ Why not expose Harry? He was better bait than Ginny. But why, why did he care so much--A hand on his shoulder interrupted his musings. He looked up as he blinked his eyes refocusing them to reality and to--Ginny.

_Speak of the devil,_ thought Harry.

She smiled ruefully at him as if he had written his thoughts on his forehead, "I don't see how they put up with you," she sat on the bed facing him, "Throwing tantrums like a five years old. I didn't think you would go this mad just upon seeing me."

Harry grunted and Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed, "Harry, I don't have cooties and if I did you can't catch them from talking to me," she added, "You'd have to hold my hand to do that." Harry had to hold back a chuckle. He finally looked up, and he sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed next to her.

"Why are you here?" he blurted out after a minute or two of sitting in silence.

"I'm here as a student, an exchange student, but I've been fully qualified for months."

"How?" said Harry blankly.

"An accelerated program. Hermione was in one too, you should know that."

"Accelerated-what? They have those at Hogwarts?"

"_Yes. You _were too busy saving the world to be bothered with it."

"Oh."

"Anything else?"

"...But why are you here?"

Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes, "I'm here to help with the investigation. I know about as much as you know. One minute I'm in my Auror class listening to Snotgrass babble on about a new plant, and worrying about my Occlumency quiz because I hadn't studied, the next minute the chief Auror is taking me to lunch, and telling me I'm going to America to help you." she paused, "I see you've been well informed."

Harry laughed hollowly, "So well informed I think my brain will explode from the information they keep sending me!"

Ginny grinned, "Now that the situation is clear for all, I'll go see if Jo needs any help with dinner." She rose and walked past the mirror, which giggled at her.

She turned back as she reached the door, "Oh, Cat says you've got double meal duty tomorrow since you didn't make lunch. Lunch _and _dinner tomorrow."

Harry sighed as he watched her walk out of the room. Catherine never gave him a moment's peace about doing his job or more importantly his chores! He flopped backward onto his bed. That meant waking up early to throw something together for lunch for the entire office. Catherine must love giving him lunch duty on the one day everyone was required to bring a homemade dish in for lunch for everyone at work.

_Why did they even do it every week?_ Harry wondered.

He was afraid to ask Jo or Catherine for the fear of a reprimand from Catherine for questioning her decisions and a stony silence from Jo as she attempted not to laugh at him. She found his annoyance at most things amusing for some odd reason. And there was no one in Hell he was going to ask Kirby about it.

Why could women drive him mad without even trying, or meaning to drive him mad? They seemed sneaky and all knowing one minute then completely oblivious the next minute. Jo, Catherine, and Ginny were three of a kind. He sighed as he looked into that invisible black hole in his ceiling, again. He could not quite figure out who or what he wanted anymore.

Catherine was energetic, and she plunged into everything head first. She was always on the go. He could count on Catherine for an honest, blunt answer all the time. Fun and funny, she was flirtatious at first, but she was clearly interesting in Mark from the office. She tortured and nagged him more than she did Harry, but Mark riled Catherine up as much as she nagged him. They knew exactly how to push each other's buttons. It was an odd relationship.

Ginny smelled like the burrow. Her presence comforted him because it was what he needed, something familiar. The feeling perplexed him. On the other hand, her presence sent a wave of homesickness over him that he had yet to feel until now. He could barely stand to be around her because her presence made him long to see Hermione and Ron again. She made him think about Sirius.

Jo was quite different from Ginny and Catherine. She was focused, almost too focused. However, her poise soothed Harry's troubled mind, and her humor amused him. She smelled like the salt from the ocean. Her physical assets greatly distracted him, too. Her hair looked so soft he wanted to run his fingers through it over and over again until he knew exactly how long those fine locks of hair were and what they felt like.

When he had first arrived in America, nothing was familiar. Now things were familiar, but the salty smell in the air reminded him of the walk on the beach with Jo; he did not think of the salty smell of his own blood after Wormtail had cut his arm in the graveyard. The dog smell that linger everywhere reminded him of Kirby sitting in Catherine's lap as she worked, and not how Fang, Hagrid's dog, put his nose in Harry's hand. Ginny's presence connected him to all of those painful memories in such a crushing, suffocating wave that he had to get away from her the minute they arrived at the house.

Jo looked in on him an hour or so later to ask if he wanted some supper, but Harry was not remotely hungry. She knocked on the doorframe, but Harry only shifted positions on the bed, where he had finally settled.

She gathered he was awake from his movement, "Brooding? Well, I'll leave you to it then. You must know Ginny really well if she makes you this down. Or maybe you two were a thing at one time and you weren't ready for it to end."

Harry sat up and looked around at Jo. He did not want her to get the wrong idea about Ginny and him. The break had been mutual at the time. He had realized he could not date his best friend's little sister (or so he thought at the time).

"No, it's nothing about Ginny," she gave him a knowing look, "Okay, it's not _all_ about her. She's the...catalyst."

_For lack of a better word,_ thought Harry, but he realized almost instantly she was exactly that: a catalyst.

Jo shrugged, "Works for me. Better watch out for Cat. When she gets it in her head that you may be feeling down and out she won't leave you alone for one moment."

Harry winced as she laughed, "Don't worry. It takes her a feel days to notice you aren't your happy-go-lucky self."

She walked down the hall after leaving him with that "reassuring" thought.

_I need Sirius here to give me advice about women,_ Harry thought, b_ut...he's not here...and Hagrid..._

Harry submerged back into his sea of depression before he finished the thought. He cradled his head in his hands as he braced himself for another sleepless night.

Hours later, after the house fell silent and the girls presumably had gone to bed, Harry lay awake staring at the friendly black hole in his ceiling. Suddenly, he rose having had enough of brooding. He wanted to do something. He threw on some sweat pants and a shirt, and quietly made his way through the house. He walked down the driveway, across the street, and broke into a dun as his feet hit the sand. The moon was out and it reflected serenely on the ocean's depths.

If Harry had turned back, even for a moment, he would have seen by the light of the moon Catherine and Jo standing at the door just watching him. Before long, Ginny came up behind them with Kirby, who was half-asleep.

"Beautiful night," said Ginny as she scratched Kirby's head, "I see James is taking advantage of the moon"

Catherine scoffed at Ginny, "You think that's the only reason he's going out in the middle of the night?"

"No, of course not. He's brooding over something, maybe seeing me makes him homesick, makes him think of his godfather."

"Who?"

"His godfather died a couple years ago, Cat," Jo interrupted tersely, "Did you ever in your life watch the news?"

Catherine scowled, "I've got too much on my plate to pay attention to people's personal lives besides ours."

"But it's _one of the victim's _personal lives. Everyone found out about the 'second coming' murders."

"I mean, what's that supposed to mean? People who had relations killed by Voldemorte during his second coming are just that: people. They just mourn more deeply than anyone who has never been directly affected by him. It doesn't mean they're different or more special than they were before they lost their loved ones. _They're just people_."

Ginny snorted and muttered, "He's more than _people_."

_I personally do not see what is so great about him, _Kirby said, H_e is nothing special._

"You seem to like to sit with him at night well enough," Jo countered, "and you do not waste your time with nobodies."

Kirby growled and he padded back into the condo without a further word.

"He's just a guy. Granted he is an extraordinarily talented dark arts expert, but there are still things to do, people to kill," said Catherine nonchalantly, "You need to use the talent you've got. Anyway, he seems like the quiet type. Looks like he doesn't want anyone to bother him about his troubles."

Jo was taken aback, "I'm surprised you noticed so quickly that he was moping."

Catherine laughed hollowly, "Hardy-har-har. We are watching him closely after all. We have to wait for the right moment to set the plan into motion."

Ginny stretched her arms up over her head, "Am I supposed to be hearing this?"

"Not really."

"No," Jo said and sighed, "but now that we've clued you in you can hear stuff like this unofficially."

"You aren't really supposed to be here," Catherine frowned.

Ginny rolled her eyes, "You just don't want any more outside help."  
Catherine raised her arms in frustration, "It attracts too much attention to what we're doing."  
"It has seemed to work though," Jo intervened, "I think we'll be able to catch him soon."

Catherine looked shrewdly at Ginny, "I'm surprised you are okay with doing this."

Ginny shrugged, "If he went over to the dark side then he deserves to be caught and tried, and to rot in prison for what he did!" she slammed her fist into her other hand on the last point.

Jo grimaced and smiled statue-like, "Yes. He will do that, especially after what he did for us, and then turned against us."

Ginny yawned, "I think I'll going to go to bed. Night all."

Jo patted her shoulder and muttered good night as she passed.

"Should we let him just go like that? He could endanger everything!" Catherine whispered in a harsh voice.

Jo nodded, "He's just got a lot on his mind. He'll be back by morning."

"But he could run off!"

"Don't worry--"

"But--"

"_Don't worry!_ I've disillusioned Roxy and Bob with instructions to tail him. They'll hurry back if there's any trouble."

A stillness descended between them as they mulled over their woes.

Catherine did not retort because she knew it was useless to try to argue with Jo when she had obviously covered all the bases. She stared hard over the ocean at nothing, or rather that nice black hole Harry enjoyed staring into during the middle of the night.

_Is all our hard work going to fall apart because of him? Are we even sane to think we can capture this great wizard? _she thought doubtfully.

_Can he take the pressure? Will he react like they say? Will we catch him?_ thought Jo over and over again.

Ginny lay in her bed staring at the friendly black hole. She worried about Harry. She had seen him after Sirius died, after Hagrid died. A depressed and forsaken Harry was not a good thing. She soon found she could not sleep, and she wished she had hastened after Harry so they could fight their demons together. After all, misery loved company.

Harry, ran against the wind, along the raging ocean thinking, _Why me? Ginny? Why Ginny? More importantly, why do I care? What's wrong with me? I've got to stay focused like Jo. But then there's Jo..._

The ocean roared into the night echoing the battle in each one of their hearts.

Catherine eventually ambled back into the condo as she muttered goodnight unintelligibly, but Jo stood in the doorway longer to stare at the sea.

"What troubles you so late at night...Harry Potter?"

* * *

Harry Potter ran. He ran for what seemed like hours. He ran until his legs turned to jelly and his lungs felt like bursting before he toppled onto the sand and breathed deeply to catch his breath.

He sat for a long time not really thinking about anything. He stared at the crashing waves and the moonlight dancing on the water. He dug his hands into the sand, and he grabbed fistfuls that he threw into the ocean. He watched a crab scuttle in and out of his hole dancing out of reach of the water as he looked for food. Harry nudged a shell with his toe and buried it deeper into the wet sand. He lay back and looked at the stars and the black sky.

All of this he did while not thinking about much of anything beyond casual observations, _The waves are rough...this sand is wet and won't stay together...oh look! A crab! A shell...die shell! Die...the stars are bright...the sky is dark...I want to fall into its blackness and never look back._

Harry lay on his back drifting to sleep when some sand was thrown into his face. He jackknifed into a sitting position and looked around, but he did not see anyone or anything. His serene and thoughtless state of mind prevented Harry from feeling alarmed, as he would have if he had been in a saner state of mind. Resultantly, he took the abrupt attack as a sign from God that he needed to sleep in his own bed.

He did not want to leave the serenity of the ocean and sand, but his nagging conscious whispered responsibilities and duties in his ear. He could not live as a beach bum. He had a greater purpose for his life that his own noble character would not allow him to ignore.

He stood up and attempted to wipe the sand off his back and to shake the sand from his hair before heading back. He trudged back home at a slow pace prolonging his re-entry into the hectic world in which he lived.

Bird prints quietly followed him. if the birds had been visible, an observed would have noted that the birds were acting skittish. A dark shadow shifted in the darkness rustling ever so slightly, which prompted the birds to take off into the sky. the shadow aimed randomly into the air, but missed the birds. It looked toward Harry but he was too far away for a head shot. The shadow saw and a nearby crab, and it killed the crustacean to vent its anger. It quietly shifted back into the darkness from whence it came.

* * *

A/N

Whoop-dee-doo! Questions were answered but more questions were brought into the light and a slight cliffhanger but nothing too terrible.

Okay, I'm going to be realistic, I don't know when I'll get the next chapter out. It could be next week or in the next month or two. It depends on my motivation and inspiration.

You, the reader, can't do anything about my inspiration, heck _I can't even do something about it, _it just happens. _BUT you can do something to help my motivation by reading AND reviewing!_


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